An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air
198
An awful Tempest mashed the air-
The clouds were gaunt, and few-
A Black-as of a Spectre's Cloak
Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
The creatures chuckled on the Roofs-
And whistled in the air-
And shook their fists-
And gnashed their teeth-
And swung their frenzied hair.
The morning lit-the Birds arose-
The Monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast-
And peace-was Paradise!
Emily Dickinson
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